


Darkness Visible

by IAmANonnieMouse



Series: Snake Eyes [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Violence, M/M, MurderHusbands, Non-Graphic Violence, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse
Summary: As one great furnace flamed, yet from those flamesNo light, but rather darkness visible





	Darkness Visible

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this while trying to think of an idea for the final week of this year's AELDWS. I sent it to my awesome beta, Flosculatory, who promptly laughed at me and said, "There is no way you can use this for AELDWS. It would never be anonymous."
> 
> She was right, per usual. But I still liked the story, so I cleaned it up, expanded it to 500 words to match the rest in this series (the AELDWS word limit was 250), and here we are. Hope you enjoy :)

As a kid, he was quiet. Ignorable. Unnoticed. Not picked on, not popular. Just there. He did his work, he said no to drugs, and nobody particularly cared.

Now, he’s grown. Taller, thinner, sharper. He’s found work that he loves, and he does it well. He works at night, hidden in the shadows. It's comfortable at night. He can work quietly, unnoticed. Just like when he was a kid.

Nobody notices things at night.

But in the morning. In the beautiful, exciting, bright sunny morning, there are news crews, cameras, police lights. Tension, emotions singing through the air.

In the morning, the whole world sees his work, talks about it, knows it.

Knows him.

Arthur walks home with the rising sun, slips in the front door and heads straight for the bathroom. He folds his clothes neatly, sets his boots to the side. He's always careful, so careful not to get them dirty while he works. It would be hard to explain to a dry cleaner.

He turns on the shower. Scrubs his skin, watches the water run red as it circles the drain.

Outside the bathroom, he hears movement. Shuffling feet, a lazy yawn. The kettle whistling, the front door opening and closing.

Arthur rinses his hair, soaps up again. By the time he's done, Eames has a pot of coffee ready for him.

"You're quite the celebrity this morning," Eames drawls, watching Arthur with sharp eyes. He tosses the morning paper on the table, headline screaming.

_Serial Killer Strikes Again!_

Arthur pours his coffee and grabs more milk out of the fridge for Eames, because he never takes enough the first time.

It's still fairly new, this thing between them. Arthur doesn't know what to think. He knows better than to trust a liar and a thief, but Eames is good at what he does.

After all, Arthur hasn't killed him yet.

"Thank you," Eames says, taking the milk with a practiced grin.

Arthur pulls the paper closer, scans the printed words. A dog found it again, which is funny. Arthur doesn't need PR. He's got dog walkers doing the work for him. 

Arthur skims to the end, reads the statement from the Chief of Police. There are no photos of his work. Quite a shame. He wanted to show Eames.

"How does it feel?" Eames asks. His eyes are a steady weight on Arthur's skin. "You need a nickname. Something catchy. Every celebrity's got one."

Arthur watches him, wary. 

"You're like a snake," Eames says, "waiting in the grass. Nobody notices you until you strike." Eames grins, just this side of feral. "A viper. My sly little snake.

Arthur takes exception to Eames' _my,_ but—he's right, the bastard. Viper. It's got a good ring to it.

Eames smirks, smug and satisfied. He can read Arthur like a book. "So how about it, Viper?" he murmurs, words like silk. "What would you like to do next?"

Arthur meets his gaze and his feral grin, and he smiles.


End file.
